The Girl Who Stole Their Hearts

Most girls don't grow up in a family that only praises you when you do something they think is right, even if you don't.

But I have.

Most girls don't have to live in fear for their life everyday.

But I do.

And most girls don't run away and never come back.

But I did.


For the past 5 years, I've been living in different places, whether it be an old friend's basement, the woods, or even a park. Currently, I have a quaint little Alleyway in London, but the cops are always on my arse. Yes, I may have stolen things, but not Teles or money or any of that unnecessary rubbish. No, I stole food, water, feminine products, and clothing. So what? I like living, thank you very much. I shouldn't have to beg, lie, and steal for my survival. But, such is the life of a runaway.

I ran away after many years of bullying, eating disorders, family issues, and other stressful shit. I'll clarify you on the details later. For now, though, I can just tell you that I simply couldn't take it anymore. So, rather than taking my life, I decided to leave everything behind in Presteigne, and try to have a fresh start.

Anyway, one afternoon, I saw a "Now Hiring" sign on the door of Foyles Bookstore, walked up to it, and read the details. They needed a new shelfer. Well, I'm a total neatfreak (even though I don't have much to keep tidy), and the sign said you didn't need to have a degree or anything, just to be 18 or older. Yeah, I think I got this.

I walked in and headed straight to the manager's desk, asked him about the job, -his name, apparently, was Micheal- and showed him my Birth Certificate. (I always have a copy, just in case.) Here's what happened:

Micheal: "OK, well, how about we meet up somewhere to talk about it?"
Me: "Um, OK, sure."
"Great! How about 'The Funky Buddha'?"
"Um, isn't that, like, a club?"
"Yeah, so it won't be boring."
"Okayyy...Uh, what should I bring and wear?"
"Wear something sexy, and just bring your smile, babe."
"Uh...OK.....?"
"Great! And your address?"
"Marlin Apartment Complex, 30 Queen St. (I didn't want him to know my real place of living, so I gave him that apartment complex as an address becauses it's just across the street.)
"Cool. Pick you up at 7:30."
"OK, bye..."
"Later, sweetheart."

Yeah, I should have seen how creepy he was.